


Headshot Your Feelings (Aim for the Heart)

by ChiaRoseKuro



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Derogatory Language, Former Prostitute, Gift Exchange, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Prompt Fic, Restraints, Secret Identity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 19:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20476211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaRoseKuro/pseuds/ChiaRoseKuro
Summary: It's meant to be a routine mission: spy on Namikaze Menma, note down any persons of interest who happen to converse with him, and deliver the information back to Orochimaru-sama. It's meant to be the final steps to obtaining his freedom - but instead of going through the motions to grasp his future, Neji falls back into his past.And when the past comes knocking, it hammershardon the door.(wherein Neji isn't the only one leading a double life, nothing is as it seems, and too much plot was injected into emotional porn)





	Headshot Your Feelings (Aim for the Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure why something that should've been plotless porn ended up with so much plot... but, uh, have some world-building with your dicks? This was meant for a porn exchange in a Discord server I'm in and, whilst this was technically done the day before, lots of editing happened - so if you saw the Google Doc, Soliam, this is going to be slightly different (and has an epilogue of sorts attached now!). Anyhow, if the tags aren't indicative enough of what occurs in this? Then please don't continue reading if you take offence to mild dubcon, polyamorous gay sex and the plethora of problems that come with multiple identities in your somewhat mentally unstable characters; spare yourself the trouble of leaving a flame I'll only toss into the void, and press the 'back' button while you're at it.
> 
> The prompt that Soliam gave was "This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you've ever had - of course I'm in", the characters given were Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Neji and Inuzuka Kiba, and the kink/trope provided were 'identity porn' and 'spies'. I attempted to incorporate the prompt but... uh, I'm very, very bad at doing that under normal circumstances, so maybe you'll see it if you squint? In any case, thank you for presenting such a juicy challenge, and I hope you enjoy the wordy thing I wrote for you in response to it! (I must also thank Cy, Suga, Alfy and everyone else who alternated between cheerleading and shaking their heads in exasperation as I bitched and moaned about writing this, but yes)

* * *

“_Relax a little,_” Sai’s voice crackles over Neji’s earpiece, tinny and jarring in a way that almost makes him fiddle with the black stud _again_, “_or someone will find that log lodged up your ass, Girly_.”

“Don’t be so crass,” Neji sniffs, muffling his whisper by ostentatiously readjusting his bowtie—but he relaxes a little, brings his shoulders down just a touch, and swallows down the thanks Sai does _not_ deserve in the slightest.

It’s meant to be a charity ball with some of the continent’s most influential figures… and at the top of that list is Namikaze Menma, heir to two of Konoha’s largest businesses and Neji’s target for the night. His detail is simple enough—an information-gathering session to determine who Namikaze spends the most time with while observing those who pay him more attention than strictly necessary—and it’d been even easier once Neji had… _persuaded_ his uncle to procure another invitation for him.

Officially, Neji is playing escort to his heiress cousin and is refamiliarizing himself with the continent after years of studying abroad. Officially, there’s nothing that constitutes an outright lie in his cover story—but it’s just not the _same_ as something completely fabricated and as airtight as they come. Going to an event under his real name, reclaiming the title he’d spurned in favour of a life undercover and having to _grovel_ to temporarily rejoin the Hyuuga corporation?

_This assignment had better be worth the trouble,_ Neji thinks acerbically to himself, and checks over his suit one last time before offering his arm to Hinata.

“Shall we, Hinata-sama?” Neji asks with perfect politeness.

And though Hinata flinches at the underlying bitterness in his tone—she rests a hand gently upon the proffered arm, offers a smile that almost doesn’t tremble at the corners, and murmurs, “Of course.”

Perhaps the evening won’t be a complete write-off after all, if Hinata’s grown a backbone since Neji last saw her… but that’s a thought he’ll have to mull over later, when they’re not sweeping into the ballroom and smiling over the heads of everyone present. _Showtime,_ some resigned part of his mind thinks—and with that thought, he guides his cousin to their seats and begins making boring, necessary small-talk with everyone at the table.  
  


* * *

  
By the time everyone begins moving from their assigned tables and the ballroom is beginning to be put to its intended use, Neji’s spotted at least five people talking to Namikaze at length. The exchanges look innocent enough, what with the laughter and back-slapping going on, but…

The Suna sultan. The younger adopted brother of Kumo’s king. Even the notoriously antisocial president of _Kiri_ had talked with Namikaze for all of two minutes, and Sai hadn’t even bothered coming up with a half-assed quip in the face of that.

Only a quiet _Orochimaru-sama needs to know about this_ before the telltale crackle of Sai slipping off his headphones back in their temporary stakeout location, and that…

He should be keeping a discreet watch on Namikaze, Neji knows that much. He should be offering Hinata a dance so he can surreptitiously listen in on whatever exchange Namikaze’s was having with Princess Tsunade’s protégée when he’d looked last. He knows what his mission is, _knows_ that he has no excuse to loiter around the table even after Hinata had spotted someone she’d known and wandered off—but here he is anyway, idly swirling a full flute of wine at his empty table.

…Or, at least, until calloused fingers curl around his slender ones and the flute’s lifted out of his hands. It happens so fast that Neji doesn’t even realize it’s gone at first, still too lost in his thoughts to focus on the outside world, but then he registers the warmth interlaced with his fingers and then—

“Hyuuga Neji?” a low voice purrs, rough around the edges but all the more intimate for it. “I don’t know if that’s your name or not, but that’s what someone around here told me.

“It’s kinda weird though,” that low voice continues, even as Neji slowly turns to look at the grinning man beside him, “because I could’ve sworn your name was Shou.”

“You’re mistaken,” a faint voice Neji barely recognizes as his own murmurs—

But the problem is that he’s not, because Neji remembers Kiba just as much as Kiba seems to remember _him_. How could he not, when Neji wakes to the sensation of phantom teeth against his sternum and can’t forget the heavy feel of Kiba’s cock against his tongue?

Even now, _years_ from his year-long undercover mission in a brothel, Neji can feel his face flushing and his cock twitching in his pants, and he…

“What, aren’t you gonna say hello?” Kiba asks, wine-sweetened breath fanning gently across Neji’s face. “You know you can’t lie to me, _Neji-kun_.”

“O-Oh, Inuzuka-san, I didn’t know you were acquainted with Neji-san!” Hinata’s soft voice exclaims from behind him then—and though Neji knows he needs to play it off, keep his cool and see his mission through—

“He’s not,” Neji replies as coldly as he can, disentangling his fingers from Kiba’s and rising to his feet. A frosty glare to counter against Kiba’s knowing smirk, a slightly less glacial look for Hinata, and then he sweeps off with a distant, “Please do not introduce me to others without my consent, Hinata-sama.”

“Neji-san!” Hinata calls after him, but he only grits his teeth as much as he dares and brush a finger against his earring. He can hear her making her apologies even as the music changes from a slow foxtrot to a statelier waltz—but it only makes him lengthen his strides so he can escape even a second faster than he otherwise might.

_I shouldn’t have accepted this mission from Orochimaru-sama,_ Neji thinks, futile though it is—and though he knows Hinata will fret later, though he can still feel an unwanted gaze caressing his body, he holds his head up high and stalks off to get another flute of wine.

_Anything_ would do to repress those embarrassing, unwanted memories—even if that meant getting completely plastered and embarrassing his name.  
  


* * *

  
“Orochimaru-sama,” Neji hisses, “should’ve _remembered_ my mission briefings. I am _not_ the only agent with an influential family background—”

“_But you are still one of his best,_” Sai replies, inflectionless as ever. “_Neither of us may know the client, but you know the stakes_.”

_Our reputation,_ Sai doesn’t quite say, but Neji pauses in splashing his face to clench his fists against the porcelain. _Our freedom_ is the one that comes to mind next, for all that precious few others would understand the liberation of an ever-fluid identity, and it’s more effort than it should be not to glare at his reflection in the mirror.

So many years of careful planning, flowing from mask to mask in an effort to become strong enough to stand on his own, and now…

“Isn’t my report enough?” Neji asks—too stiff, too _angry_, but it’s not like Sai can see his ugly expression through the earring. “I’ve kept an eye on Namikaze-san, reported everyone he’s talked to so far—it should be _enough_.”

“_There are still two more hours_—”

“Then _send someone else,_” Neji snarls, fingers white-knuckled against the vanity as he glares at his reflection. “Orochimaru-sama has other agents planted at this event, doesn’t he?”

Sai inhales sharply before whispering a low, “_Be careful with your next words, Girly—_”

But with the memory of Kiba’s fingers digging into his nape, with his cock half-hard in his pants and a despicably visible flush high on his cheeks, Neji roughly fists a paper towel in his hands and hisses, “So help me, if I don’t leave _right now_ I’ll—”

“Do what?” a smooth voice asks beside him, and Neji curses internally even as he fights to remain perfectly still. It’s a public restroom—public to those attending a lavishly private networking event, anyway—and he should’ve _known_ that someone would walk in sooner or later, but all he can do is clench his hands a little harder around his paper towel.

“I can give you a lift, if you’d like,” that smooth voice continues, and it’s with vaguely dawning horror that Neji meets Namikaze’s concerned look through the mirror. “If you’re worried about Hinata-chan, I can ask someone to inform her on our way out too,” he adds almost as an afterthought, and…

It’s tempting, far more tempting than it should be. Neji can already hear Sai advising him to take the offer, even if it’s not strictly related to the mission—after all, what other opportunity might he have to assess Namikaze for himself? Even if the mission briefing only required him to note his conversation partners, spending some time with the man himself might shed some light on the conversations he might’ve had with everyone else so far.

It’s a completely welcome deviation from his plans for the evening… so why can’t Neji shake off the sensation of _wrongness_ emanating from Namikaze? There’s nothing outwardly strange, no inflection in his voice or any shift in his body language that should trigger Neji’s senses, and _yet_.

“Hyuuga-san?” Namikaze asks, raising a hand to touch his elbow—

But Neji shifts so that Namikaze’s fingers only brush air, turns to dispose of his paper towel in the bin, and stiffly replies, “My apologies for that unsightly display, Namikaze-sama. Please don’t allow me to keep you from enjoying the rest of your night.”

And in an ideal world, that would be the end of that. Neji would leave and re-enter the ballroom, suffer through tedious small talk to gather more intel on Namikaze, then return to his and Sai’s hideout to provide a more thorough debriefing of the night’s events. He’d probably get chastised for losing his temper—because he was regretting it even now, as he shifts to move around Namikaze and idly notes the way his eyebrows crinkle in response—but it’d be another uneventful mission in the end.

Another box ticked, another unpleasant memory stored, another step towards true freedom.

Except there’s nothing that’s ever been ideal about Neji’s world, not from the moment he’d been born as a second-class member of his family. From being recruited by Orochimaru-sama and accepting his conditions, knowing full well that he was being used but more than willing to use him in return—it’s always been his fate to be damaged as collateral for others’ whims, and it’s no different this time.

“But I insist,” Namikaze says as Neji’s slipping through the door, and there’s barely any warning before there’s a cloth pressed to his face.

“Make sure he doesn’t hit his head, Kiba,” is the next thing Neji hears—but then there’s the cloying stench of chemicals, an arm viced around his torso—

And even as his mind registers Kiba’s and Namikaze’s faces side-by-side and something twinges at the sight—darkness closes in, and Neji knows no more.  
  


* * *

  
The first thing Neji registers is metal biting into his skin, from his heels to his shoulderblades and all the way down to his knuckles. _They’ve taken my clothes,_ is the first groggy thought he has, even as he steadies his breathing and tries to sense his surroundings—

But then there’s a warm hand trailing up his thigh and it’s impossible to tamp down his flinch, both from the sheer unexpectedness of it and its proximity to… more _sensitive_ areas. Given that it’s too late to feign unconsciousness, Neji breathes in before cracking his eyes open—only to see a pair of darkly amused ones looking back at _him_.

“It’s about time you woke up,” Kiba laughs, low and rich in a way that makes Neji’s skin crawl even as his cheeks flush light pink. “The boss has been waiting, y’know?”

_For what?_ Neji wants to ask, but then there’s a low _clank_ behind him and the metal table he’s tied to—because he’s aware of the shackles around his ankles and wrists, now—shifts to lever his body into a vertical position. A few shuddering jolts later…

“Namikaze-sama,” Neji breathes—but that’s not quite right, is it?

Because the man in front of him isn’t the smooth-cheeked, baby-faced heir he’d seen charming the ballroom earlier, even though they share far too many similarities to be anything less than identical twins—or the same person. Unsmiling in a way that accentuates the whisker marks across his cheeks, with the tips of tattooed fox tails peeking out from beneath his sleeves…

“Naruto-san,” Neji chokes out, eyes impossibly wide as the gravity of the situation sinks in, and the fox-sharp grin Naruto gives him only makes Neji want to hit himself that much harder.

“Oh, you still remember me!” Naruto cheerfully exclaims, though the expression on his face is anything _but_ cheerful. He rolls back his sleeves and gets to his feet with fluid grace, exposed fox-tails shifting on his skin with every movement—

And it’s almost like Neji’s back in that brothel, swallowing back his pride to learn beneath Naruto all over again. From dances to facial expressions to sexual techniques, opening himself up with fingers and toys so clients wouldn’t tear him apart and he could remain relaxed enough to steal their valuables and secrets—hadn’t that year been more than _enough?_

“Neji-kun—or should I call you Shou-chan?” Naruto asks nonchalantly, hands in his pockets and grin still firmly in place. Neji’s expression probably isn’t as flat as he’d like it to be, because Naruto nods to himself with a thoughtful hum then adds, “Well, I’d always thought you were too pretty to be working in that brothel, so it’s nice to know you didn’t die in the end.

“But still, what would a _Hyuuga_ be doing beneath someone like Orochimaru?” Naruto muses aloud—and Neji doesn’t need to hear Sai’s staticky indrawn breath to understand the sheer _depth_ of his current problems.

(the fact that Sai’s earring was still _there_ and that nobody had come to _rescue_ him yet would be a thought for much, _much_ later, but given his present situation…)

“He asked you a _question_, Neji,” Kiba growls into his ear, and Neji shuts his eyes against the moan that wants to bubble out.

He’s not Shou anymore, not the whimsical name he’d been given to better draw out his allure as a paid _whore_—and yet here he is, tied up and naked, _shivering_ from sensations he can’t quite pin down and—

“Don’t be so mean, Kiba,” Naruto laughs, but his voice is too _close_ and Neji feels breath fan against his cheeks with Naruto’s following huff. “Can’t you see you’re scaring poor Shou-chan?”

“My name is _Neji_,” he hisses through his trembling, forcing his eyes open so he can glare at them both, “and I am not _scared_.”

“I suppose you aren’t,” Naruto hums easily enough—

“But then,” Naruto continues through Neji’s gasp, dragging a finger up Neji’s erect cock, “I can see _this_ reaction clearly enough, can’t I?”

_It’s not anything special,_ Neji wants to protest. It’s just a combination of his utter lack of clothing, the conditioning he _still_ hasn’t purged from his mind and the memories he couldn’t purge either, but Kiba’s cupping his chin with one hand and Naruto’s shifting from one light finger to two, loosely circling his cock and skirting the edge of _too much_. _I don’t even **like** either of them,_ he tries to protest to himself instead—but when his back’s arching to get more of the rough friction against his cock and Kiba’s tangling their tongues together?

He barely even registers fingers fiddling with his ear or the clink of the earring being tossed someplace else. It shouldn’t even _be_ a problem, not when he’s been an agent in far more perilous situations—but Kiba’s darkly alluring taste beneath the lingering aftertaste of wine and good food, the smoother slide of Naruto’s fingers against his cock now that there’s precum to act as a buffer—

“You _still_ haven’t answered my question, _Shou-chan_,” Naruto murmurs into his ear, nipping at his earlobe hard enough to draw blood, but only a choked whine slips out of Neji’s lips.

And like this, tied down and pleasured by the two who know his body best, it’s so _hard_ to remember that he’s being held captive. That Neji has essentially failed his mission, placed Orochimaru-sama and the rest of his group in jeopardy by getting himself exposed—but who cares about that when he’s being exposed in _all_ senses of the word?

“Use words, Shou—I’m sure you’re still capable of _that_ much,” Kiba growls into his mouth, tightening his fingers around Neji’s jaw, and it requires far too much effort to draw enough breath into his lungs.

“My _name_,” Neji eventually gasps out, “is _Neji_, and what I choose to do is none of your _business_.”

“Well, it’s good to hear that you’re not completely submissive,” Naruto hums, something promising and dark in the curve of his slow smile. “After all, _Neji-chan_, it’d be a pity if you gave in too quickly.”

“What—”

But then Kiba’s leaning back and Naruto’s leaning in, loosening the tie around his neck with one hand while the other threads through Neji’s hair and _pulls_. It’s just shy of true pain, more like a spark of _something_ that makes his cock spurt precum, and the rough handling is so reminiscent of his time as Shou that Neji _sobs_ into Naruto’s eating kiss.

He’d promised himself that he’d never be that weak again, do _anything_ to prevent himself from being sold out as a cheap whore or use seduction techniques on any future missions. He’d thrown himself into reconnaissance and spy-work and whatever else he could do to maintain what little pride he had as the overlooked spare, the Hyuuga heir that never was.

Hyuuga Neji wasn’t a paid prostitute, submissive and resigned to a fate that was worse than his original lot in life—but here he is anyway, metal chafing at his wrists as he fights against shackles that won’t budge, and every breath he takes is filled with Naruto and Kiba and pungent arousal.

“Should I bother asking you again?” Naruto purrs against his lips, sky blue boring into glazed lavender as blunt nails circle Neji’s nipples. “Or are you going to give in like a good boy and _tell_ me what I want to know, Neji-chan?”

“He’s not gonna be that easy, Naruto,” Kiba laughs—but his voice is a little further away than it should be, and it’s not until he feels a tongue lick across his cockhead that Neji understands _why_. Even as he cries out, ankle chains jangling from the unconscious buck of his legs, Kiba presses his hands against Neji’s thighs and hums against his trembling cock, “_Fuck_, man, d’you _know_ how long it took for him to cum without touching his dick?”

“You know that’s not the same thing, Kiba!” Naruto laughs, but his eyes are still trained on Neji’s and far too intent for his light-hearted tone. He pauses to roll a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drinks in Neji’s breathless keen at the sensation, then adds almost conversationally, “But I guess a bit of fun couldn’t hurt.”

There’s more conversation after that, something about time and Orochimaru and then more raucous laughter, but Neji’s cock aches between his legs and his head’s abuzz with static. It’s hard to hang onto the certainty of his mission, the aspirations he’d harboured before going into this—it was meant to be one of his last missions before he had enough contacts to establish himself properly, he would’ve been _free_ of the Hyuuga name and all the other chains of fate binding him down—

“Funny how names mean nothing when you’re too addled to think of anything but sex,” Naruto says, something peculiar in the darkness of his voice, but whatever he says next gets lost in the slickness of Kiba’s mouth.

How long had it been since Neji got himself off, ashamed and muffled lest someone else heard? How long had it been since he’d stopped having passionless, perfunctory sex with anyone remotely decent-looking after too much alcohol and not enough lighting? He _is_ too addled from repression, addled from the memories of Kiba fucking him open while Naruto recorded his performance, and when Kiba pulls off his cock with a lewd _pop_ just as Naruto plunders his mouth again… well.

There’s a small part of him, a small and defiant part that lasted throughout the years, that clings onto the hope of salvation and rescue from Orochimaru-sama even as it reels from the sheer notion of dependency on another. Surely Sai’s aware that something’s wrong. _Surely_ they’d come for him sooner rather than later, and _then_ he can worry about his dependence on them then.

But for the larger part of him, the part that remembers being fucked to the point of overstimulation and recovering in Kiba’s arms… for the part that remembers being brought to the edge by Naruto’s fingers and mouth when his clients were too unskilful to get him even half-hard…

“How far d’you think we’ll need to push him before he caves in?” Kiba asks a little distortedly around Neji’s cock, and the only hazy thought that comes to mind is _not much at all_.

“Fuck, he’s even _tighter_ than I remember,” Kiba snarls under his breath, pressing his second finger into Neji. Naruto, occupied with brushing Neji’s hair out of his face and nudging his cockhead against his lips, doesn’t really hear him—but then Kiba growls, “You think my cock will even fit in here before someone comes for him?”

“Say that a little louder, why don’t you,” Naruto testily replies, trailing his fingers down Neji’s cheek and pressing a thumb against his lips.

But it’s not Kiba’s words that make him this wound up, just as it’s not just Shou—_Neji_—bound and pliant in front of him that’s making his dick this hard. He hadn’t believed his eyes at first, hadn’t been able to see the proud and ethereal beauty he’d met all those years ago in Hyuuga Neji, but a whisper from Kiba and a quiet exchange later…

“C’mon, Shou-chan, open up for me,” Naruto croons, pressing down on Neji’s reddened bottom lip, and breathes out a shaky sigh when Neji goes with the motion. “That’s it,” he hums gently, almost _encouragingly_ as he pushes his cockhead into Neji’s mouth, and it’s hard not to press the rest of his cock in when Neji’s tongue presses the flat of his tongue against his slit.

Because like this, shackles repositioned to clinch his hands behind his back and legs spread apart, Neji is every bit as beautiful as he’d been back then. Naruto might even say he’s _more_ beautiful now, all milky skin and silky black strands sprawled across it—and though it’d been a struggle to keep him from bolting when he and Kiba repositioned the table and then Neji himself, the sight is absolutely _worth it_.

Oh, Naruto liked the sight of Neji’s erect nipples well enough—but with his lips stretched pretty and reddish-pink around his cock, with his eyes glazed and the delicate flush of his back barely visible through his hair, he’s a far better sight than he’d initially been. He’s far more like the prostitute Naruto had once promised to save all those years ago, before he’d awoken the day before his coup and first thought Neji _dead_, and right now…

Neji moans around Naruto’s girth, high-pitched and breathless in a way that suggests Kiba’s found his mark, and Naruto looks up to see the feral grin on his face. “_Gotcha,_” Kiba whispers, barely audible above the slick noises from Neji’s mouth and ass, and Naruto fists his hands into Neji’s hair just to pull it all back and see Neji’s face clearer.

And what a sight it _is_.

“Just _look_ at you,” Naruto breathes, more to himself than to anyone else. Lets his gaze rake over the tear-tracks down Neji’s cheeks, the vibrant red high on his cheekbones—he pulls Neji in closer, lets his cockhead slide down Neji’s throat and marvels at the lack of resistance, then purrs, “I bet you couldn’t forget about us, Shou-chan. I bet you thought about us when you got yourself off—”

_That you thought of Kiba, but you thought of me too,_ Naruto doesn’t dare voice aloud. He and Kiba have had years to learn about each other, map out their bodies while charting the business world—but he still remembers waking and wishing that the hair tickling his nose was long and black. He’s heard Kiba moan Neji’s name during sex, too, when he thinks Naruto’s too far gone to hear anything.

And maybe it’s not right of them to stage all this shit so they can drag Neji back into their world, offer an exorbitant price for Orochimaru to just—transfer his best agent over to them, easy as they pleased. He and Kiba almost didn’t have _enough_ in the end to ensure it was all hushed up, that neither Sai nor Neji himself would sense anything amiss, but they’d managed to convince the slippery snake bastard in the end.

Digging into Shou’s past until they found Hyuuga Neji instead, fabricating identities so detailed that not even an experienced spymaster could see through them without difficulty—

Kiba slathers lube onto his own cock at the same pace as he drives four fingers into Neji and Naruto feels every juddering thrust vibrate through his cock. The spark of defiance in his eyes is almost extinguished, his actions so pliant that Naruto almost can’t believe the man sucking his dick was the same cold, affronted man he’d ‘accidentally’ run into in the restroom, but then he draws back completely from Neji’s mouth and tugs at his hair once, sharply.

A yelp, a sudden sharpening of his gaze, and Neji glares up at him with his teeth bared. It’s hardly intimidating, barely even qualifies as resistance with the way his lips are swollen and every facet of him screams of helpless arousal, but the anger lurking there all the same makes his blood pump faster in his veins.

“You’ll regret this,” Neji hisses in between a sharp whine, when Kiba roughly draws his fingers out of his entrance. “I swear to you, Naruto—”

“You don’t know _anything_,” Naruto hisses right back, rage blending with the arousal already pooled low in his belly. “You left us there—you left _me,_ couldn’t even _recognize_ me even when you were spying on me—”

“Oi, _Naruto,_” Kiba snaps, but the colour’s already bleaching out of Neji’s face.

_Me and my big **fucking** mouth,_ Naruto laments internally—but before he can regret, before Neji can begin struggling in earnest and ruin _everything_ about this stupid, impulsive plan, Kiba does what he does best.

With the conviction Naruto had took years to build, with the impatience innate to him, Kiba seizes Neji’s hips and _pulls_ him back onto his cock, burying himself deep in one smooth thrust, and the choked gasp he fucks out of Neji is beyond description.

“Shit, how are you still so _tight?_” Kiba gasps, even as Neji’s head hangs low and his ass clenches around Kiba’s cock. It’s hard to see from where Naruto’s standing, hands still loosely and uselessly entwined in Neji’s hair, but the soft and almost _pained_ moans Neji’s making are telling enough.

He probably shouldn’t do what he does next, knowing how Neji probably sees them and how much rides on this one defining moment—but before Naruto can stop himself, he’s pulling Neji up even as he bends down to meet him halfway. A moment to look into his eyes, try and convey all the words he can’t speak… and then a kiss, slow and careful in a way that nothing preceding it had been, as his hands shift to cradle Neji’s cheeks.

There’s no way he can avoid the taste of himself, but there’s no avoiding the subtle spice of Neji’s underlying taste either. Fully aware that Neji could bite his tongue off at any moment, Naruto carefully licks into every crevice in counterpoint to the jerky, shallow thrusts Kiba starts.

Like this, almost pressed chest-to-chest and breathing in each other’s spaces, it’s easy to forget all the years that’ve passed them by. Oh, he wasn’t really _allowed_ to kiss Neji as much as he liked, only going through the motions so he could pass on his techniques to the new prostitute—but then he comes back to the present, remembers where they are and what positions they hold, and it’s easy to tilt his head to deepen the kiss.

“Tell me you like this,” Naruto whispers against Neji’s lips, hardly daring to speak above it even though Neji’s moaning freely into his mouth. “Tell me you want us,” he breathes in between one of Kiba’s thrusts and the next, and draws back just enough to see the way Neji’s lashes flutter and his throat bobs from Kiba fucking into him raw.

_God_ does he want to be the one fucking moans and whines and gasps from Neji’s lips—it’s more tempting than it should be to shove Kiba off and take over himself. He can see the way Kiba’s eyes are fixated on Neji’s ass though, how his nails dig into Neji’s hips even as his thrusts go from fast and jerky to slow and deep, and when Kiba’s gaze finally rises to meet his own—

It’s not the most ideal circumstance, can hardly even be called a decent _position_ as is, but Naruto presses Neji’s face to the crook of his neck then adjusts the chains, easing him upright so that he can lean in to ravage Kiba’s lips. It’s not ideal either, having Neji’s chin digging into his shoulder or feeling Kiba fuck into Neji while they’re kissing, but what else can he do?

So many years of hoping, of waiting and watching and planning for this one fragile moment, and now…

“Shou-chan,” Naruto says, but he curls a loose fist against the fall of Neji’s hair at the way that feels on his tongue.

“Neji,” Naruto tries instead—and it’s not ideal either, but Neji pushes against his hands to lift his head up.

There’s so many things he wants to say, so many feelings he wants to convey, but Naruto only presses their foreheads together for a moment then turns Neji’s face towards Kiba. He watches them kiss with an almost distant air, painfully aware of how hard and aching his cock is and how Neji’s body heat isn’t quite enough to get him off—but this isn’t just for him.

And when Kiba murmurs lowly to Neji as well, curling one arm around his torso and cumming into him with a shuddering sigh of his name, Naruto only shifts so his lips envelop Neji’s cock. A few harsh sucks while Kiba finishes off in him, a light fondle of his balls and a quick glance up to see Neji’s face, and it’s over for him too. It’s no effort at all to swallow it down, even if the taste isn’t all that pleasant—

But before he can draw back and finish himself off quietly, leave Neji and Kiba to their afterglow while he tries to figure out the logistics of what happens next, there’s arms wrapping around him and a faintly slurred, “Don’t you fucking _dare, _Naruto.”

Sharp nails drag against his back and sharper canines scrape against the junction of his neck and shoulder—but it’s not Kiba that shakily grasps his cock and guides it to a slick hole. It’s not Kiba who seats himself fully on Naruto’s cock, low moans falling into Naruto’s ear, and even though Neji _has_ to be oversensitized, wrung out and plain _fucked_ out by being kidnapped and then toyed with and then fucked steadily by Kiba—

He’ll question it all later, when he’s not balls-deep in Neji and gasping beneath Kiba’s assault on his neck and back, but Naruto grips Neji’s hips and chases his own release for now. It doesn’t take that long, considering Neji’s blowjob before, and soon he’s moaning Neji’s name into his hair as Kiba pulls back and Naruto cums, adding to Kiba’s release.

“Are you okay?” Naruto forces out when he’s capable of speaking again, reaching to unlock Neji’s shackles and go about cleaning him up…

But when he glances over at Neji, concern etched into his features, all he gets is a soft snuffle for his troubles. There’s a moment when Naruto stares dumbly down at Neji, hair sticking to their sweat-slicked bodies and slumbering almost _peacefully_ despite his cramped position squashed between him and Kiba, but he meets Kiba’s eyes over Neji’s shoulder.

“Are you gonna regret this, _boss?_” Kiba growls quietly at Naruto.

And for all that he wants to say yes, wants to wish that they could’ve resorted to something less than subterfuge and mindfuckery…

“We’ll make this work somehow,” Naruto murmurs in deference to Neji’s repose, and the grin he gets back is almost enough to make him believe in his own words.

“So you’re telling me that Orochimaru-sama… _sold_ me to you?” Neji asks slowly, clenching his hands against the sheets pooled around his navel. “And you spent the past few years just—”

“We were kinda fucking desperate, okay?” Kiba snaps, back tensing further against the window and he crosses his arms tighter. “Naruto and I—we didn’t want you fucking punished if we fucked up, but we thought—”

“We never knew you were working for Orochimaru-san until later,” Naruto finishes off, but he’s not all that calmer from where he’s seated beside the bed. “We thought you were like us, y’know?”

And it’s gratifying, in a way, to hear that Neji’s cover had been sufficient back then. He’s not quite sure what to think of everything Naruto and Kiba had told him as soon as he’d awoken, head pillowed on Naruto’s lap and no shackles in sight—but when it was clear that Sai wasn’t coming, that he’d switched one master for another—

“If you’re just going to keep me around as your pet then you might as well just kill me _now_,” Neji spits.

But instead of anger or any other negative, rational response—Naruto laughs, Kiba snorts, and Neji finds himself blinking in bewilderment as Kiba walks over and smooths his hair from his face.

“You’re a damn snooty idiot, you know that?” Kiba chuckles, amused despite his chastising question. “Guess that’s just something else we’ll have to learn about you, huh?”

“But really, what makes you think we’d return you right back to where we started?” Naruto asks, crossing his arms and arching a brow at Neji. “Did you think we’d just… what, fuck you and go on with our lives? Add to your trauma?”

“What am I meant to _think?_” Neji hisses, swatting at Kiba’s hand. “It’s not as though any of this makes any _sense_—”

“Then stop _thinking_ and just _go with it_,” Kiba snaps, rolling his eyes.

“We just want to be with you, okay?” Naruto adds, expression shifting into something weirdly open—

And for all that Neji still has far too many questions to ask, wants to know about his future and where they all stand and how this fits into everything…

When Kiba draws his hand back with a half-hearted sneer, when Naruto’s gaze drops to his folded arms—Neji reaches forward to grab Kiba’s hand, takes a deep breath when Kiba’s gaze snaps back to his face, and curtly says, “Fine.”

_I’ll figure it all out later,_ Neji promises himself…

But for now, he takes in another deep breath and intertwines his fingers with Kiba’s, then reaches his other out to Naruto.

**Author's Note:**

> For further author notes and other things related to this fic or series, feel free to check out my [blog](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/). Alternately, potential prompts and other sorts of inspiration can be found on my [Tumblr](https://chroku-n.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chroku_n/) if that tickles your fancy instead - or, if you'd like your own shiny new oneshot, you can request one from me [here](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/commissions/).
> 
> I may or may not continue this in the future, but we'll see where my motivation and energy take me.


End file.
